Bílá Hora [English translation]

On the eight of November sixteen twenty, at Star Summer Palace on the White Mountain, remained last banner of the Kingdom of Bohemia army - Moravian banner of Schlik. At the walls of Summer Palace they fought to the last man. The song is called The Last Moravian.

Beneath the white wall mud's got colour of nacre

and bells flew away after the wind to Rome,

horizon turns red, my dad,

from the scarlet shame

we've been left alone, no descent from the Cross.

Dull banners burn hands of standard-bearers,

only the eyes beneath the helmet perhaps still hope,

and the evil fogs sweep into the holes of voles

and into the wounds of the eagle, which is being bounded.

Red rooster on the horizon stretches its claws,

comb of wind grooms the blazing feathers,

we believed in meekness standing next to the tumbrels,

golden age won't come, instead the stone one will.

It's said that staying under the banners is the honor to the bone,

to have a shameless soul and a worthless brain,

to be a king of deceit and to easily take an iron rings without the humility to the wedding with Reaper.

It isn't honey - to drink again from the heaping goblet

and to believe in prophets with the chorale of bugle,

one-hundred dark years shine at us with the venomous star

on the coat of arms for the slaves - for our heirs.

Red rooster on the horizon stretches its claws,

comb of wind grooms the blazing feathers,

we believed in meekness next to the tumbrels,

golden age won't come, instead the stone one will,

stone one will, stone one will.

• Artist:Karel Kryl
• Album:Rakovina